


Demon Dreams  (Tommy-Anton AU – Medieval 02)

by bittenfeld



Category: Power Rangers Dino Thunder, Power Rangers Dino Thunder AU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9212441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: A medieval AU fic, told from Tommy’s POV.  (Not completely written out – a collection of scenes.)Tommy is out hiking in the California mountains near Reefside, when suddenly a handsome blond medieval nobleman on horseback comes riding up and confronts him.  Gradually Tommy realizes that somehow he’s not in Kansas (or Reefside) anymore… and that the two of them share certain interests in common...





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've changed the PRDT canon - the Dino Thunder team exists, but there’s no Mesogog yet, and Tommy has never met Anton.

Tommy is out camping with Hayley and the team in the California Cascade Mountains, near Mount Lassen, and he strolls away from camp for a little hike. 

He’s alone, emerges from the forest, and is walking down a path, when a handsome blond man on horseback rides up (an Anton Mercer look-alike).  The man is dressed as a medieval nobleman, and the horse is outfitted the same.  Rather peremptorily he asks Tommy’s name and business.  Tommy answers and offers a friendly hand, which Anton ignores. 

Anton demands, “What were you doing in the Demon Wood?  You know it’s forbidden.”  His speech is different but understandable.

Tommy blinks, then tries a different friendly tack.  “Hey, I like your costume.  Say, is there a Ren Faire going on around here?  I haven’t been to one of those in a long time.”

Now Anton blinks.  “Ren Faire?”

“Renaissance Faire.”  Tommy indicates the rider and horse.  “Did you make your outfit yourself?  Very nice.  And even your horse’s tack looks very realistic.”

Anton frowns in confusion.  “And you’re speaking utter nonsense.  Anyone would know this is not the season for faires. And I don’t know what a Renaissance Faire is.  And speaking of clothes, _your_ garments are very strange.  And why were you hiking in the Demon Wood?  Only illiterate fools would wander past the warning signs.  Unless” – and his hand moves to the hilt of his sword – “you’re a demon.”

Immediately Tommy steps back, arms raised. “No – no.  Like I told you, I was just out for a hike.”  He figures the mounted man just might be a nut-case (who takes his fanning a little _too_ seriously…), and maybe he better get back to the gang.  “Listen, nice to meet you, but I think I’ll just be going now.”  But as he glances around, he begins to realize that the landscape doesn’t look quite right.  More like Olde England, rather than the outback of California.  A little unsettled, he asks, “Hey, is there a ranger station around here you maybe could just point me to?”

Anton looks askance.  “A ranger _station_?   What might that be?”  Then queries, “Are you a ranger?”

Tommy smiles slightly just to himself, and answers, “Yeah – you could say that.”  But the more he looks around, he realizes, even the trees look odd.  He’s no botanist, but something’s very strange.   Yellow fruit larger than pears hang from the branches.  But it’s no kind of fruit he’s ever seen.  Each is overlaid by a network of fibers, and more than that, each seems to emit a slight glow, giving them the effect of hanging lanterns.  “What kind of trees are these?”

Anton is watching him curiously.  “They’re lyral trees, of course.  What kind of ranger are you, if you don’t even know that?” (of course, he’s using ‘ranger’ in its original sense, as a ‘keeper of the woods’.)

Tommy’s starting to realize that _he_ just might be the one out of place, rather than the costumed man.  He decides to try a different approach.  “I’m a stranger here.  The Demon Wood – why is it called that?”

Anton answers levelly, “Because strange beings and entities come from there to attack our lands.  And men who venture in, rarely come out – and of those who do, most come back mad.  We put up wards, but that doesn’t always protect us.  There is an evil magic in there.”

Tommy’s beginning to think:  not an evil magic, but maybe a trans-dimensional warp.  Of course magical wards don’t work against scientific realities like dimensional rifts.  He’s going to have to go back the way he came if he’s going to get back – _if_ he can find the doorway again, that is… god, he sure wished he had access to the scanners and computers back home.  As soon as he’s alone again, he’ll use his communicator to try to contact the others – if he can.  Maybe they can download some data into his morpher, or link directional signals with him to guide him back.  And he thinks of his old mentor from long ago, and thinks right now he could really appreciate some input from Zordon’s transdimensional omniscience.

He thanks Anton, then says he needs to go back.  But then as he starts back towards the woods, Anton tries to counter him, “stop, fool!” spurs his horse forward to block Tommy.  Tommy tries to evade the animal.  “No, you don’t understand, I have to go.”

“You can’t!”  Distastefully, against his own preferences, Anton chases him a short way into the woods, as Tommy tries to get away.  Anton is wearing a cloak that he unfastens, then skillfully swirls it around Tommy, tripping him up and bringing him down. 

On the ground, Tommy suddenly notices the horse’s feet – and sees three toes – three hooves on each leg – akin to the equine ancestors mesohippus or merychippus.  “Omigod!” he blurts, then the paleontologist in him takes over, and he stares fascinated at the animal.  It’s neither quite a regular horse nor an ancient specimen, but some variation between.  “Wow, look at your horse!  Do all the horses around here look like that?”

“What is the matter with you?” Anton retorts sharply, dismounting and capturing Tommy.  “Did you fall on your head when you were birthed?  Of course all horses look like that.”  He binds Tommy’s wrists in front.   “I don’t know whether you’re a demon in man-form, or a harmless stranger, or a mind-tainted fool.  But I can’t let you go back into the woods.  You’ll come with me until I decide what to do with you.  Now if you’ll coöperate, you can sit with me.  Otherwise, I shall truss you like a side of venison, and you’ll ride across the back of my saddle.  And I’ll warn you – the ride is some distance.  It’s your choice.”

Tommy has to admit, it’s not much of a choice.  And he realizes he may as well go along with the man.  If he rushed back into the warp unprepared, god knows where he might end up.  This would give him some time to contact the others and formulate a real plan.  “I’ll coöperate.  I won’t make trouble,” he promises.  “And I’m not a demon,” he assures.

“That remains to be seen,” Anton replies coolly, assisting him to mount.  “I assume you are telling the truth, however there have been some in human-form.  I’ve seen them.”  Then he mounts behind Tommy, and urges the horse back to the road.

This will also give Tommy some time to get what information he can out of his host.  He wonders if there’s any way to appeal to the man’s intellect, get past the blinders of magic-belief, and get him to begin to approach the problem from scientific rationale and assist Tommy (although probably not – Anton will just be even more convinced that Tommy is a mind-addled idiot.)

“Where are you from, ranger?” Anton questions.  “Who is your king?”

“There is no king of my country.”  Tommy knows it won’t do any good to lie, nor does he have the time or wherewithal to fabricate an extensive back-story on the spur of the moment.  Still it wouldn’t do any good to say more than necessary.  “I’m from Reefside – it’s a city on the coast.”

“The coast?  That’s a great distance.  You walked that far?  Are you an explorer?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”  
* * * * *

When they finally arrive at the castle, Tommy is immediately taken to the dungeon, stripped naked.  His clothes and all the items in his pockets are taken and offered to Anton to examine.  At least they can’t take the dinogem bracelet – they study it, but it doesn’t come off his wrist, there is no latch.  The photo on his driver’s license, other photos of friends, plastic credit cards, US money, not to mention the factory-made clothes – intrigue everyone.

“Fetch Old Mother.  She will see if he is human or demon.”

He’s left alone in the dungeon for a long time.  At least thank god he does still have the dinogem – that could prove to be the ace up his sleeve – literally.  When no one is within hearing range, he tries the communicator.  But there is no answer, only static, no doubt the phase vibrations here interrupt the transceiving frequencies.   He wonders if he can morph – if it’s even possible here.  Calmly he quiets down and extends his consciousness to see if he can sense the morphing grid – after all, it exists in all dimensions.  And he finally can tune into the subtle sensation, and there’s something comforting about the familiar vibratory hum.  He won’t morph, unless as a last resort to save his life, but at least he knows he can.

Finally a wizened old hag enters, with Anton and a pink-haired young man also dressed as a nobleman.  The woman is carrying a satchel.  There’s something about her that seems vaguely familiar to Tommy. 

The guards lock Tommy’s wrists and ankles to lengths of chain so he can’t interfere with her, then stand to the side to watch alongside the prince and the young man.

“What are you called, boy?” she questions.  “And where are you from?”

“My name is Tommy Oliver,” he answers one more time.  “I’m from Reefside, California, of the United States of America.”

“I’ve not heard of that place, Tommy Oliver.”

He glances away and answers dryly, “Neither has anyone else around here, it seems.”

“His Highness says you came from the Demon Wood.  Are you a demon?”

“No.  I’m just a man.  I was out hiking, and I lost my way.”

 She looks over his belongings, studies them, particularly the dinogem. Then from her bag she takes some tools, they could be the medical instruments of this place.  Holding a small magnifying eyeglass up to her eye, she examines him thoroughly, every inch of his body, his scalp, fingers, toes, holds open his eyelids to look into his eyes, then probes every orifice to his dismay – it’s as though he’s getting the most intimate physical exam of his life.  He’s tolerant of it, until unexpectedly she pricks his arm.  Abruptly he jerks, but she ignores his struggles.  A trickle of blood dribbles down his arm.  She looks at it, sniffs it, then wipes a finger through it and licks it.

“Now do you believe I’m human?” he challenges.

“Perhaps,” she considers.

Then from her bag she takes out a small bottle of greenish-brown liquid, uncaps it and holds it to his lips.  “Drink this.”

He pulls his head back.  “What is it?  Maybe it’ll kill me.”

“It’s nothing more that a distillation of hemora root.  It won’t kill a human.”

“I’ve never heard of that.  What if I refuse?”

“Then I will call the guards to assist me.”

Tommy knows that will only end with him being injured, so he acquiesces and drinks the sweet grassy-tasting liquid.  Nothing happens for about a minute.  Then suddenly his stomach protests vehemently,  and he crumples to his knees, vomiting abruptly and losing control of his intestines.

Helplessly he holds himself, feeling sick, trembling, sweat oozing from his pores, smeared with his own mess.  Shakily he accuses, “You poisoned me.”

“I have done nothing such.”

“You said it wouldn’t kill a human.”

“And it won’t.  That’s why you vomited.”  She opens another bottle, this one a white creamy liquid.  “Now drink this.  It will settle your bowels.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You would do well _to_ trust me, boy.  It is only through me that you will be released from here.  Drink it.  You’ll feel better.”

Again he realizes he has no choice, so he does, and very quickly it does calm his insides.

With calm medical interest she is examining his bodily fluids.

“Are you looking to see if I’m a child-eating ogre?” he queries.

But she only ripostes, “If you were a child-eating ogre, your bowels would have run green, and your blood would have tasted of arsines, not irons.”  Again she returns to the dinogem, touches it, lays her hand over it, feeling the vibrations, then asks pointedly, “Is this a field-generator?”

Tommy jerks, stares at her – how could she know?  He can’t answer her. 

She doesn’t press it, but packs up her supplies, and announces to Anton, “He is human, your Highness.  There is no trace of demon in him.”

“And what of his belongings?  And the fact that he doesn’t recognize a horse or a tree?”

She only shrugs.  “That I cannot say, my liege.  Except that he is from a different land with a different culture.  So perhaps their animals and plants are different as well.”

Anton smiles.  “Very well.  Unchain him,” he orders of the guards.  “I will take him to the bath, then he will dine with us. Paul,” he speaks to the young man, “take his belongings to my quarters, and lay out some of my clothes for him, then inform my father of Old Mother’s pronouncement.”

Tommy is staring after the old woman as she leaves, but announces to Anton. “I’ll wear my own clothes.”

“No, you won’t.  Your garments will draw too much attention.  And besides they’re filthy with the dust of the road.  You certainly won’t wear them in my father’s presence.  Now come with me.  And don’t try to escape.  If you try to run, you will be killed.”  The guards watching him in the dungeon are all armed, of course; and as they walk down the corridor of the inner courtyard, Tommy can see archers at intervals along the tops of the walls, watching for enemies both outside and in.

Anton leads him to a room – it’s a huge elegantly furnished tiled bath, more like a swimming pool – and indicates for him to get in.  When Tommy steps into the water, he finds it heated very warm, hot tub temperature.  It really does feel good after all he’s been through.  He submerges completely then finds an underwater ledge to sit on, and just sits there, up to his neck and finally allows himself to relax.

Then Anton undresses and gets into the water as well.  He’s just as dusty from their ride. 

But the prince seems to be eyeing him suggestively, desirously.  And Tommy knows that look. They may be from two entirely differently worlds, but evidently desire is exactly the same.  Not too sure he wants to pursue that direction, he moves away, expression a little stiff.

Anton smiles in amusement.  “What’s the matter?  Don’t you like the bath?  Or don’t people bathe where you come from?”

“We bathe.  But we don’t usually share it with someone else.”

Anton settles.  “You know, you must tell me all about this world of yours.  What horses and trees are like. And the people.”

Paul appears in the room, carrying towels and a ewer.  Kneeling by the prince, he pours some liquid – probably soap of some kind – over Anton’s shoulders, and chest and back.  A spicy woodsy scent lingers in the steam rising off the water.  It’s an intriguing attractive scent, but Tommy can’t place it.  Then the youth begins to rub it over the prince’s skin, as far as he can reach without getting in the water himself.  The touch isn’t particularly sensual, but Anton enjoys and relaxes into it.

Then moving over to Tommy, the young man starts to do the same thing, but Tommy interrupts him, and with a smile, assures, “That’s okay, I’ll do it myself.”

A little nonplussed, the pink-haired youth looks back to Anton for permission.  Anton just smiles again.  “That’s all right, Paul,” the prince assures.  “Evidently our guest has some peculiar bathing habits.  Let him do what he wants.”

The young man offers the ewer to Tommy and Tommy pours it over himself.  It does feel good to get clean.  But while he’s soaping up, he sees the prince’s eyes on him.  Finally he challenges, “What?”

A warmth lights pale blue eyes.  “Tell me, Tommy Oliver, where you come from, are all the men as desirable as you?”

Tommy eyes him wryly.  “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

A questioning expression raises an eyebrow.  “Why should time be wasted?”

Tommy began rinsing, rubbing the soap from his body.  “This morning you were willing to run me through with your sword.”

“This morning, I thought you might be a demon.  I am glad you are not. Because now I will have you.”  And he reaches for Tommy’s face.

Abruptly Tommy knocks his hand away.

Anton smiles.  “Very well, if not now, then tonight when we bed.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever turned you down?”  From the blank look on his host’s face, he surmises, “No, I guess not.”  
* * * * *

“Have you ever had a woman?”

“Yes – to beget the next heir to the throne.  I have a lady consort with whom I bedded until she became graven with child.”

“And afterwards?”

“Afterwards, what would be the purpose?  I have fathered a son, I have performed my duty.”

“Don’t men sleep with women here?”

“They can if they choose.  Where you come from – don’t men bed other men?”

“They can – if they choose.”

“And what do you choose, Tommy Oliver?”

“I choose someone when it’s mutually agreeable, not when someone just announces they will ‘have me’ .”

“Do you find me desirable?”

A half-lidded gaze in the prince’s direction.  “I’ll answer that later.”

A tug of lips.  “Very well, I’ll await your answer.”  
* * * * *

Again, when Tommy is alone, he tries the communicator, but again no answer, only static, a strange white noise.  Numerous times, nothing.

Finally though, after several days – thank god – one of the kids, Kira, answers.  They’re desperate.  “ _Where are you_??”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Tommy admits. They can barely hear each other through the static.  “Like the saying goes, I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore.  Listen, I need to talk to Hayley.”

“I’m right here,” Hayley’s voice chimes in.  “We’ve looked all over for you.  We’ve even had search parties out in the woods.  You just vanished.  Where are you?”

“Actually I’d keep everyone out of that area,” Tommy suggests.  “I’m betting there’s a warp in there.”

“A rift?”

“That’s my guess.”

“Spatial or temporal?”

“Neither – I think it’s inter-dimensional.  This place looks like Merry Olde England, but not exactly.  There are people here, but things are different.  And I’ve seen the maps, but they’re not the Earth we know.”

“I take it then that you’ve communicated with the people? Are they friendly, or are you in danger?”

“I’m fine – at least so far.  And yes, I can communicate with them.  They speak some sort of dialect, but it’s not that different.  Right now I’m a guest of the prince of this kingdom.”

Then the connection is broken, as the transmission slips out of phase.  
* * * * *

Anton suggests they ride out hunting venison for dinner.  Tommy questions, “The prince has to kill for the castle kitchen himself here?”

Anton assures, “No, we have hunters who do it.  Whenever I hunt, the meat is distributed to the widows and children and the infirm.  And as well, when our hunters are fortuned with a large kill.”

Tommy has never hunted with a bow before, but he does pretty well, and each of them get a buck.  
* * * * *

They’re in Anton’s chambers one evening.  Anton is coming onto him without much subtlety.  He raises a hand, strokes Tommy’s hair sensually.  Making a face, Tommy knocks his arm away.  “Knock it off,” he complains.  “What was that for?”

“I’m not going to let you go, Tommy.  I want to keep you.  Surely I’ve made that clear.”

“You’ve made it clear,” Tommy assures dryly, turning away.  “But don’t even start on it, Anton.  I’ve already told you, I can’t stay.”

But the prince just retorts, “Then perhaps I haven’t been clear enough.”  And grabbing Tommy’s shoulder, he shoves him roughly up against the granite fireplace, grabs a fistful of hair, fingers laced through short dark strands, yanks Tommy’s head back, his body pressed up tightly against Tommy’s.  “I _will_ have you in my bed.”  With his free hand, he unlaces Tommy’s shirt and slips fingers beneath the material to fondle one breast, then pinch and twist the nipple painfully, while lips and tongue molest Tommy’s face, and knee presses hard between Tommy’s thighs.  “My bed has been empty for some time.  You will fill it,” he murmurs, then smiles against Tommy’s ear.  “And _I_ shall fill _you_.”

Tommy doesn’t try to free himself, but merely challenges lightly, “You don’t know anything about me.  I’m a stranger from another world.  Aren’t you afraid of me?”

The hand slides down Tommy’s hard belly, tongue prodding down the taut tendon of Tommy’s neck, and Anton acknowledges merely, “There are only a few things I fear.  But you, not at all.”

“Perhaps you should,” Tommy murmurs, then abruptly reverses their positions, twisting rough fingers into loose blond strands, and forcing a brutal kiss on Anton’s mouth.

Anton moans in delight, as they fight against each other, clothes scattering, until they fall on the bed, Tommy on his back, and Anton on top.  Anton’s lips pull back in a fierce grin, eyes bright with aggression.  “I know what I need to know about you, my lovely stranger.  And you _will_ be mine.”

And they wrestle together in hard brutal lust, two alpha males, tangled in rough sex.  Finally Anton takes Tommy from behind, fucks him deep and hard, clutching him to himself, one hand gripping swollen genitals, the other hand grasping throat and jaw, arching Tommy’s body back rigid, pounding into him relentlessly, until they both come in hot blinding passion, harder than either one ever has before.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

But the first time, Anton tears Tommy rather badly.  At first Tommy tries to ignore it, figuring he’ll heal quickly enough.  But the next evening, Tommy has to stop Anton, the pain is just too bad.  Anton calls for the healer again.  She examines Tommy, and asks intimate questions, which Tommy finds a little embarrassing.  Mildly she berates Anton – “another virgin that you’ve torn?”

“He’s no virgin, old mother,” Anton replies in pleasant retort.  “I can assure you of that.”

Tommy responds tautly, “You’re just big – and pretty enthusiastic...”

She begins packing some salve into Tommy with her fingers, which Tommy does find embarrassing, not to mention the sensation is causing an erection.  He’s blushing and tries to suggest, “I can do that, or the prince…”

But she merely rebuffs him.  “You can – but you won’t.  Because _I_ am doing it.”  And continues to fill him full.

Anton watches in amusement.  “He’s ashamed, old witch, he’s growing large for you.”

The healer is unimpressed.  “What, do you two young straplings think that I am unfamiliar with a man’s toys?”

Playfully Anton challenges the withered old crone, “When was the last time a man called you to his bed, old woman?”

A wry glance is shot his way.  “Ask your great-grandfather… or your father…”, leaving Anton slightly distressed without a retort.  “Or perhaps…” she suggests with a subtle little smile, “… someone might find himself ensorcelled and in _my_ bed tonight…” –  and Anton finds himself blushing brighter than Tommy…

Then finishing packing Tommy full, she announces,  “Now, leave that in all night and allow it to absorb into your flesh..  By morning you will be healed, and indeed your flesh will even be stronger.  You should have no further trouble with his Highness’s enthusiasm…”

The sensation is uncomfortable.  “All night?” Tommy complains.

“All night,” she insists, then tells Anton,  “And you will see to that, my prince – and leave him untouched tonight.”

Anton smiles.  “I follow your will implicitly, my lady, you know that.”

“You do now,” she ripostes, packing up her supplies.

Anton glances over at Tommy.  “We would do well never to disobey Old Mother here.  She heals, but she can also punish wickedly.”

“You still remember, stripling.”

“I _was_ a stripling – not quite a man – and I thought I knew far more than this old woman here, and I told her so, in quite careless words.  To teach me a lesson in manners, she had me tied across my bed, then filled my bowels with hellfire.  I do not know what she used, it did no actual harm, yet felt like I was being consumed in flames from the inside out.  I have since taken numerous wounds in battle, yet nothing has ever hurt like that.”

Tommy questioned, “And your father allowed it?”

“My father totally concurred with it.  He said it was a final lesson I needed to become a man.  But I couldn’t have felt less of a man then – I was screaming and crying like a newly-whelped babe for hours, begging, pleading with her, promising I’d never do it again, shrieking ‘til my breath came no more.”

The old woman scoffs.  “Hours – hah.  It was no more than the short length of the moon that night. But it was a lesson the careless mouth of a young king-to-be needed to learn.”

“And learned well, old mother.  I have never since spoken out of turn to any man, woman, or child.  At any rate, Tommy, we would both do well to heed her instructions tonight.”

“I can see that,” Tommy agrees.

After she leaves, Tommy asks, how old _is_ she?  Anton doesn’t know, but says from what he’s heard, she was a wizened old crone even when his father was a babe.  Is anyone else around here that old?  Not at all. Anton is 40, and his father is 80 and nearing the end of his lifespan.  Is she from here – or does anyone know where she came from?  Anton has no idea.  But she’s highly respected, probably second only to their departed queen – even nearly worshipped.  She has knowledge of magic and healing that no one else does.  She can almost perform miracles on wounded soldiers and desperately ill people.  She can read the sky and the earth, the seasons, plants and animals.  And the king – and the people – respect her advice greatly.  She has an apartment at the palace, but instead chooses to live in a hut out near the Demon Wood, and in fact is their first line of defense when anything untoward comes out of the woods.

And Tommy asks in amusement, “by the way, how many virgins have you had?”

Anton shrugs.  “I don’t know.  The captain of my personal guard is my second-cousin.  We lost our virginity to each other when we were both fifteen.  That would be 25 years ago.  The others of my guard are friends or relatives – I’ve bedded several of them as well.  And some of my personal attendants.  But as to which ones were virgins, I don’t know or remember, or care.”  He takes Tommy’s chin and smiles, and leans in for a kiss.  “What I do know is that none compared our night last night.”

“Don’t.”  Tommy fends him off.  “Or we’ll end up disobeying your lady friend – and I don’t want either of us to suffer hellfire tonight.  And I’m guessing that even as old as we are, that wouldn’t stop her.”

Anton grins and relents.  “I agree.  You know, even my father is hesitant to cross her.  I told you that there are only a few things that I fear.  Well, she is one of them.”

* * * * *

Back at the dino lab, Hayley has been working hard, and communication is restored at least temporarily.  “Well I’ve got a fix on your signal – it’s showing that you’re still in Lassen Forest, only about eight miles from where we lost you.  So you’re still on Earth.  Just… somewhere else.”

“Well, I’ll tell you right now, this isn’t Lassen Forest,” Tommy’s voice comes over their communicators.  “More like Sherwood Forest.  But not even really that.”

Conner pipes up eagerly.  “So does that mean you can get him back now?”

“Not exactly,” Hayley squelches the enthusiasm.  “I have to get a reading of the dimensional vibrations of his actual location, then let the computer compute the phase permutations.  Only then will we be able to pull him back.  And so far, I’ve got nothing to go on.”

“I don’t get it,” Conner mutters.

“I do!” Ethan chimes in.  “It’s like we’ve located him on the X and Y axes, but not on Z.”

“Yes – except in this case, we’ve got three dimensions dialed in – it’s four, five, and six that  we don’t.”

“But we know where he is,” Conner protests. “You just said that.  The computer’s already pinpointed his location.”

Hayley agrees.  “Yes – in this dimension.  But that’s why we can’t pull him.  As far as the computer can tell, Tommy is already here, so there’s nothing to pull.”

“Like a hologram,” Ethan explains to his teammate.  “You ever seen that?  You can see an object right in front of you.  But when you try to take hold of it, there’s nothing there.  It’s just an optical illusion, because the real object is really somewhere else.”

Conner shakes his head, not bothering with Ethan’s technical explanation.  “Just get him back, Hayley.  Please.”  
* * * * *

Tommy is starting to get an idea, and goes to see the healer alone one day.  “Mistress, could we talk?”

“Of course,” she greets, and allows him in.  “I trust you are able to accept the prince’s advances more easily now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy acknowledges.  “But I didn’t come to talk about him.  I came to talk about you.”

  At first glance, the cabin looks like a witch’s hut might – with old books everywhere, and shelves lined with numerous bottles of potions.  But then Tommy sees lab equipment scattered about – crude, hand-made, hand-forged, jury-rigged – but lab equipment, nonetheless.  And he knows he was right.  “Everyone thinks you’re a witch – but you’re a scientist, aren’t you?  And you’re not from here – you came through a dimensional rift in the Demon Wood, didn’t you?”

“As did you,” she surmises.  “But if you’ve come to ask if I can return you to the place you came from, I’m sorry, I cannot.  I _can_ tell you there are numerous doorways in the woods, and they shift, and come and go.”  She indicates her crude equipment.  “But as you can see, I have no way of measuring or studying them.”

“Well, I’m a scientist, too.  Maybe we can help each other,” he offers.  “Maybe we can figure out a way for both of us to go home.”

“Well, perhaps for you, young man, but I don’t intend to leave.  I’ve been here for a very long time, and this is my home now, helping these people the best I can.  So, in the end, what does it matter where I am, or who I help?”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees.  “Where are you from?  You’re human, just like me, and the people here, so we must all be from Earth.  I’m wondering if all the rifts connect different dimensions of the same place, planet Earth, or if the doorways connect other places, other planets.  I’m from the United States of America, and the year back home is 2010.”

“Perhaps it is the same planet.  Where I am from, our planet is the same distance from our sun-star as this place is, and the atmosphere and water here are comparable.  We call the planet Erdhu, although I know of no United States of America.  But the land-masses here are different from those I know, as well.  When I left, our civilization year was 4058.53.”

“How long have you been here?  You suggested to the prince that you knew his great-grandfather – did you really mean that?”

She smiles subtly.  “Perhaps.”  Picking up a notebook, she hands it to Tommy.

He opens it.  It’s a hand-written almanac, spanning 136 years.  “136 years,” he frowns.  “You’ve been here that long?”

“Yes.  Although I can’t say for certain that the length of the days and years is the same, down to the moment.  At any rate, I was 56 years old when I found myself here.  So that would make me…”

“192 years old,” Tommy finished in wonderment.  “Is that normal where you come from?”

She shakes her head.  “I can’t explain it.  But perhaps that’s another reason I should stay here.  If I were to return home now, I might die instantly upon arrival.”

Tommy nods thoughtfully.

“But I’ll help you any way I can, Tommy.”

“Thank you.  By the way, what’s your name?  I don’t want to call you ‘old witch’ like the prince.”

She smiles.  “No one has called me by name for many years.  It’s Helig.”

“Oh really,” Tommy notes with sudden interest, realizing why she has seemed slightly familiar.

“Does that mean something to you?”

Tommy smiles, “You just reminded me of a friend back home.  Tell me, Helig,” – he glances about the room – “Your laboratory equipment – did you make it yourself?”

Helig shrugs.  “Some, what I could.  Other pieces, I would draw up the designs and take them to the smithy or the tinker in town.  I know everything is crude.  The trouble is, as you well know, there is no power source here in this world for any advanced equipment.”

“Well maybe I can help you, in return for you helping me.  Are you familiar with electronics – computers – or atomic energy in your world?”

“I think I know what you are referring to – yes, we had that.”

“All right.  I might be able to get you a power source and some better equipment.  I’m in contact with my friend back home – she is a scientist too.  We’re working on creating a phase doorway so I can get back home.  If we can do it, I’ll see about bringing a few things over to leave with you that you might be able to use.”

“That is beyond generous, Tommy.  But I have no way of re-paying you, and I don’t know how to help you get back.”

Tommy smiles.  “I don’t know how long I’m going to be here.  I need to learn as much as I can about this place.  You can help me by sharing what you’ve learned so far.”

She indicates the room.  “You’re welcome to all my notes and my equipment, such as it is.  But I’m curious – how are your able to communicate with your friend?”

He holds up his arm, exposing the metal dinogem wristband.  “This is a communicator.”

She studies it with interest.  “How is that possible?  Is it that the vibratory rate of the crystal is able to pass through to your dimension utilizing harmonics between this world and your own?”

Tommy grins.  “Something like that.  Hayley is the physicist with all that knowledge.  You two would really get along, I bet.  You sounded just like her just now.”

“Her name is Hayley?”  A little wink.  “We may be even more alike than either of us realize.”  
* * * * *

But a number of people, the king included, think Tommy is possessed by a demon, or at the very least, possessed by madness, which they decide should be beaten out of him.   While Anton’s away, Tommy is sentenced to a whipping, and takes some of it – until Anton arrives upon the scene and interrupts furiously.  He doesn’t know where Tommy came from or his unusual appearance and behavior, but he is convinced that Tommy is neither a demon, nor mad.  He demands the beating to stop, which the king refuses.  So then, angrily, Anton reminds, “You know our laws allow that when the master-at-arms feels that a convicted soldier is truly innocent, he may take the man’s punishment in his stead.  Therefore I wish to suffer this man’s sentence.”

“You?” the king retorts in disbelief.  “Take the place of this commoner – this madman?”

But Anton replies, “As you also know, in the chain of command, the master-at-arms answers directly to the crown prince.  So I have the right – no, I _demand_ the right – to take this man’s punishment.”

“None of that applies.  He is not one of our soldiers, just a stranger.”

“He is under my auspices.”

“You’re a fool, whelpling.”

“I have spoken my word for this man.  Grant me my right.”

“Very well.  He shall fight – bare-handed – and if your bed-whore can fight like a soldier, I’ll grant it.”  With a gesture the king motions to the guards.  Tommy is untied from the whipping rail.  His back and arms are bloody.  Momentarily he staggers before regaining his stability.

“He’s injured,” Anton protests.

“Any soldier worth his shield should be able to fight even wounded.”  And the king calls out a big brawler.

“I can fight,” Tommy grunts, a spark in his eye with the sharp look he gives Anton.

But Anton’s look is solemnly grave.  “I hope to the gods you can.”

The fight is rough and bloody.  But while the big brawler is fighting with raw strength and brute weight, Tommy has the obvious advantage, fighting with a mix of boxing, martial arts, muay thai, and a few other things in between.  No one in this world has seen that style of fighting.  The monster of an opponent is not easy to take down, but finally Tommy manages it.

“He may not be one of our soldiers, but he is a warrior,” the king acknowledges.  “Very well, my son, if you are so eager, I will grant you your ‘right’ to his punishment.”

Stoically Anton unlaces his tunic and blouse, and takes Tommy’s place.  He waves off a guard who steps forward to bind him, and grips the rail of his own free will.

“Whipmaster,” the king pronounces.  “Since my son is so adamant to take this man’s punishment, let him take all of it.  Start the count over from the beginning.”

Despite his pain and exhaustion, Tommy protests.  “That’s enough!  We’ve both proven enough to you!”  until one of the guards slugs him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground.  Dazedly he’s dragged up and secured to keep from interfering.

But after a number of blows, which Anton takes silently, the king interrupts the whipping, and queries his son again, “You feel so certain of this man’s innocence?”

“Without a doubt,” Anton responds levelly, even as his voice is tight and quivering from pain and the exertion of enduring.

“This man isn’t one of us – he doesn’t even seem to be of our world.  Are you so sure that you wish to claim full responsibility for him?”

“I do.  Without reservation.”

“Fine,” the king acknowledges, and ends the spectacle.  “He’s yours then.  Just make sure you keep a tight leash on him.”  
* * * * *

Anton comes to Tommy’s chamber.  Bandages are visible beneath the prince’s partially-open blouse.

Tommy is face down on his bed, stripped naked, while Helig smears a salve over his bloody back and arms, and myriad bruises and swellings, and bandages him efficiently.  “Man, I feel like I was run over by a bulldozer.”

“By a what?”

“Nothing – never mind.”

“You fought well,” Anton acknowledges.

Tommy manages a taut pained grin.  “Yeah, the bed-whore has a few other talents.”

“I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.  What master taught you?  Where did you learn?”

“Well, I could tell you, under Yamanaga-sensei at the dôjô in Angel Grove, California, but that wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Helig finishes her work.

Anton waits until she has left, then turns serious.  “Now.  We will talk.  You will tell me everything,” he demands.

Tommy hesitates.  “I don’t know that I can.  You won’t understand.”

“Don’t assume me a fool.  I’ve seen you speak to your bracelet, and I’ve heard ghost voices answer you.  Your clothing and possessions are like nothing I’ve ever seen before.   I wish to know everything.”

“You’ll probably have me arrested or executed.”

“If I were going to order that, I would have done it already.  Now, I have offered blood for you.  I relieved you of your punishment and willingly took it for you, because I truly believe your harmlessness,” Anton reminds.

“And I thank you for that.”

But Anton ignores his thanks.  “You don’t understand the consequences of that.  If I am wrong about you, and you cause harm to our kingdom, I will forfeit my head.”

Tommy looks up to see if he is joking.  But Anton’s expression is completely serious.  “Your father would allow that?”

“My father would order it, as punishment for treason.  I would be impaled upon my own sword, then beheaded by my father’s.  Now tell me.  Who are you, and what are you doing in our land?”

Tommy considers how to bring someone from the 12th century to the 21st century in 5 minutes.  “Well, you know that demons appear from another world.  They’re not from your world.”

“Yes.”

 “Well, that’s exactly right.  They _are_ from another world – existing simultaneously alongside this one.  And there are other worlds as well, some which contain human beings,  Your world and mine are like that.  There may be infinity of worlds – on top of each other, entwined with each other.  And most of the time there is no connection, but every now and then something like a hole opens up, and someone can slip through.  That’s what happened to me accidentally, and that’s what happens when other entities – what you think of as demons – come through.”

“How?”

“I could tell you each world exists on its own vibratory phase, but that won’t mean anything to you – it hardly means anything to me.  Now, my friend Hayley knows a lot about these things – she’s the one you’ve heard me communicate with.  Right now she’s trying to figure out a way to reproduce the phase shift that I stepped through, in order to get me back again.”

“This Hayley, she knows so much about these ‘other worlds’ – is she a high priestess?  Or perhaps a queen-regent of your world?”

Tommy smiles.  “No, nothing like that.  But I depend on her completely.  She is a scientist – well, you might consider her a… tinker, or a wise-woman.”

“A wise-woman – yes, I understand.  Would it be possible for me to speak with this wise-woman of your world?”

“Sure – I’ll try.”  Tommy speaks into the communicator.  “Hayley?  Hayley, are you there?”

“I’m here, Tommy,” her voice comes over.  “But I’m afraid I don’t have any more info for you just yet.”

Tommy smiles over at Anton.  “Well, that’s all right.  Listen, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.  I’ve been trying to explain vibratory dimensional phase sequences, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.  This is Prince Anton, my host over here.”  And holding up the dinogem bracelet, he urges Anton to speak.

For a moment, Anton hesitates, then stiffly speaks, “I am Anton, son of Ealdwode, king of the lands of Brynwald and Lochcallon.  And you… are the wise-woman Hayley?”

Tommy can hear the smile in Hayley’s voice.  “Well, I don’t know how wise, but yes, I am Hayley Ziktor, daughter of Karl Ziktor, of the United States of America.  Thank you, your Highness, for offering your hospitality to Tommy.”

Anton’s serious gaze shifted to Tommy, his manner still a little stiff.  “He is… a good man.  You will be… taking him back soon?”

“Yes, we hope to retrieve him very soon.  Oh, Tommy – ” a sudden urgency lit her voice – “I think we’re getting the dimensional fix we needed – the computer is correlating the vibratory phase pulses of Prince Anton’s voice.  Your Highness, please speak some more.  Tell me, I hope Tommy hasn’t caused much trouble for you.”

Anton still watched Tommy.  “No, all is well.  He has attempted to explain your world to me.  I shall miss him… deeply.  I should… like to meet you as well, mistress.”

“Well, perhaps one day we will meet.  Tommy, I’ve got it now.  As soon as the computer runs the phase permutations and fixes the coordinates, I’ll contact you again, and  we should be able to pull you back.”

“Okay.  Talk you to later – and I hope to see you soon – real soon.”

“See you, Tommy.  And thank you again, your Highness.”

“Farewell, mistress.”

Tommy shrugged, smiled at the prince.  “So. what do you think?  You just spoke to someone in another dimension.”

Anton’s face tightened.  “I do not understand your words – except that somehow because of my doing that, you will be leaving soon.  Had I known that, perhaps I would not have done so.”

“I have to go back,” Tommy insisted.  “I don’t belong here, in your world.  I have to go back to my own world.  My life is there, my friends, my work.”

“Will you ever return?”

Pensively Tommy shook his head.  “Probably not.”  Sympathetically he watched the other man’s face, stern and taut.  “I have responsibilities as much as you do.  Anton, you once asked if I was a ranger.  I told you I was – and that was the truth.  Hayley, and the others you’ve heard me talk to – they’re my team of rangers.  Not quite in the same way as you mean it, but our duty is to protect the people of our world.  It would be just as dishonorable for me to forsake my duty as it would be for you to forsake yours.”

“Then I have no right to keep you.  But know that I would if I could.”  Fingers reached up to touch Tommy’s jawline.  “How much time do we have?”

“I don’t know – probably not very long.”

“Then allow me to bed you once more.  I will not let you go until I have had your body one last time.”

Tommy smiled.  “I think we have time for that.”  
* * * * *

Finally Hayley calls, she’s ready to set up the portal.  When it appears, the kids and Hayley are on one side in the dino-lab, and Tommy and Anton are on the other.  For a moment, Anton lays a possessive hand on Tommy as though he might want to hold him back, but then relents and lets go, and Tommy steps through the doorway.  Once across, Tommy raises a hand in goodbye, and Hayley smiles and waggles her fingers at Anton.  Stoically Anton acknowledges, then Tommy glances at Hayley, and she has the computer shut down the doorway.

Of course the kids are ecstatic he’s back, bombarding him with questions, where were you? what was it like?

Tommy is interested in some of the technical details, which Hayley shows him.

But not until later, after the kids have gone home, and things have quieted down, Hayley asks about him and the prince.  Obviously the look in Anton’s eyes, and the way he held onto Tommy at the last moment spoke volumes.  Tommy can only admit wistfully, yeah, if only things had been different, if only they had met under different circumstances, if only they lived in the same dimension….  
* * * * *

A number of months later, Hayley announces to Tommy,  “Did you forget the annual North American Paleontological Convention is the week of the 18th next month?  I went ahead and  got your registration and booked you into the convention hotel.”

Tommy groans.  “Yeah, I did forget.  I’m too busy right now, you’ll have to cancel – I can’t make it this year.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find a way to make it.”

There’s a spark in Hayley’s eye that Tommy finds suspicious.  “What?” he demands.

“The keynote speaker is a Dr. Mercer, the new head of the Paleontology department at your old alma mater.”

“Mercer,” Tommy considers.  “Yeah, I’ve read several papers of his in the NAP Journal.  He’s brilliant.”

“Do you remember his first name?”

“No, not off the top of my head.  Anthony, Andrew – something like that, I think.”

“Do you know what he looks like?”

Now Tommy’s suspicions are increasing.  “No – I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photo of him.  Why?”

“Would you like to?”  She brings up the convention notice on the computer screen.

And Tommy’s heart leaps into his throat.

‘Dr. Anton Mercer’, the copy reads beneath the photo of a smiling well-tailored blond blue-eyed 40-ish man – with the face of a prince.

Hayley smiles.  “I just _happened_ to sneak a peek into the hotel’s reservation database… made a few _minor_ adjustments… and got you the room next to his.  Now are you sure you still want me to cancel it?”

“ _No!_ ” Tommy blurts.  
* * * * *

Prince Anton is out riding in the castle’s private preserve, when he spots a hooded figure riding where it shouldn’t be.  He spurs his horse over to issue a stern warning to the interloper.  “Are you aware your on the king’s private lands?  Show yourself.”

“Please forgive my error.  I am not from here, and I seem to have lost my way,” the man apologizes, pushing the hood from his head and smiling at his accoster.  “I was unaware I was trespassing.  I will leave immediately.”

And Anton’s heart nearly stops.  “Tommy!  You’ve returned!”

The man’s smile turns to friendly curiosity.  “Excuse me, but how do you know my name? – although only my mother and my old nursemaid still call me ‘Tommi’.  I am Tomas, son of Rithgard, king of the lands of Cael, east of Lake Morrin.  Do we know each other?”

Anton is beaming.  “No, but we shall.  We shall come to know each other – very well.”  
* * * * *

 The NAP convention, the first day, lunch break.  Tommy approaches Mercer, hand held out in greeting, mentions how interesting Mercer’s talk had been, and adds, “Congratulations on your appointment to the UCLA Paleontology Department.  That’s my old alma mater.  By the way, I’m Dr. Tommy Oliver.”

Mercer takes his hand.  “Dr. Oliver, yes.  You know, we’ve met before.”

And Tommy stiffens sharply, looks Mercer directly in the eye, trying to see the prince there.

But Mercer, if he notices Tommy’s reactions, says nothing about it, but reminds, “1995 – Arthur McLeod’s class on Comparative Therapod Anatomy of Sub-Saharan Regions.”

And Tommy is snapped back to this reality.  “Yes.  And you were Professor MacLeod’s assistant instructor.  But how would you remember one student out of hundreds from fifteen years ago?”

“I remember you.  You showed a great deal of promise.  And you ended up top of the class, if I recall correctly.”

Tommy is impressed.  “Wow, you do remember.”

“And after graduating, you made quite a name for yourself.  Several of your papers made an impression on me.  Your work in robotics – fascinating – although that’s rather a stretch for a paleontologist, isn’t it?”

“Well, robotics was my minor.”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t read anything recent of yours.”  A little light chastening nudge.  “Has academia cooled for you?”

Tommy grins.  “Hardly – actually I’m back in the thick of it, teaching high school science.  Unfortunately, I’m afraid that means my own research has fallen by the wayside for the time being.”

“Teaching high school – mm, you must have been looking for some peace and quiet,” Mercer quips.

Tommy grins.  “I believe I made the same comment to the school principal once.”  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night as Tommy is in bed, he considers that he knows better than to project his fantasies onto the man, and certainly not make any overt suggestions in that direction.

But here, alone in bed, he at least can allow himself the pleasure of fantasizing Mercer in Prince Anton’s place.  And afterwards he sleeps deeply and contentedly.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next evening they run into each other again.  As Tommy passes through the lobby, Mercer is chatting with a few other scientists.  He sees Tommy and beckons him over, says they’re all going out to dinner, and would Dr. Oliver like to join them?  Tommy agrees.

After dinner and long discussion late into the hour, they all go back to the hotel, each peeling off one by one at the various floors, to go to their respective rooms, until finally only Mercer and Tommy are alone together strolling down the hallway on their floor, and that’s when Mercer discovers that Tommy’s room is right next door to his own. 

As they say their goodnights, Mercer adds one comment, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others, but now that we’re alone, I have a proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”

And again Tommy’s breath catches, and he tries to cover quickly.  Mercer does seem to notice this time and gives a tiny smile, but continues innocuously, “Your research into dino DNA coding and gene sequencing – that’s one of my research topics as well.”

Tommy is trying to calm his reaction.  “I wasn’t aware anyone but me was working on that.  I don’t recall reading anything – have you published?”

“Not yet.  I… haven’t been ready to put it out for the scientific community just yet.  But I’d like to discuss it with you, and also how your robotics knowledge might come into play for a project I’ve been considering.  If you’re interested, that is.”

Warmth and excitement flood Tommy’s blood – _if he was interested…??_

He tries to keep his voice level.  “Umm, maybe.  What did you have in mind?”

Mercer glances at his watch.  “Well it’s late now.  But perhaps before the convention is over, we can, uh, find some time together to go over it?  Perhaps Thursday after dinner?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Tommy agrees.

“Fine.”  Then just as Anton opens the door to his room, he gives Tommy one last smile and a slightly lingering look, before disappearing into his room.

And Tommy is left with a slight feeling that Mercer just might have meant something a little more – the look, and some of the things he said, the way he said them…

But then Tommy shakes off the feeling and enters his own room – no, that must just be his own wishful fantasies teasing.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day when briefly no one else is within earshot, Mercer comments on Tommy’s subtle reactions to him, and mentions blandly, “Perhaps it’s just my imagination, but it seems there’s something you’d like to say to me?”

Tommy figures feigning ignorance won’t go over, so he just apologizes and replies truthfully, “Sorry if I’ve been staring.  It’s just that you’re almost a twin to someone I once knew.”  And he can’t stop old feelings welling up.  “A friend from a long time ago.”

And Mercer responds enigmatically, “Then he was a very lucky man.”  But his smile says more, and for a moment, Tommy stares at him sharply, even wondering if he had accidentally slipped up and said ‘lover’ instead of ‘friend’.

Without leading any further in that direction, Mercer changes the subject.  “Are you still free tomorrow evening?”

“Uh, yeah…” Tommy agrees, although a little off-kilter sense furrows his brow.

“Good.”  Mercer smiles.  “I’ll see you then.”

And he leaves, while Tommy watches after him curiously.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The last night, Thursday, there’s a knock on Tommy’s door.  It’s Mercer, two glasses and champagne bottle in hand, left over from the group dinner.  “A shame for this to go waste – I thought the two of us could finish it off.”

Tommy lets him in, and Mercer pours the wine.

“So,” Tommy asks, “what’s this… proposition… of yours?” willing to let Mercer take that any way he intends.

Mercer smiles ever so slightly, but then pronounces, “Your two interests –  dinosaur DNA and robotics – have you ever considered combining them?”

Tommy questions, “What do you mean?”

“Using the DNA to bring extinct reptiles back to life – in a manner of speaking.  Wouldn’t you like to see that?  It would be a paleontologist’s dream come true.”

But Tommy frowns.  “Uh, I seem to remember a movie about that… umm, it didn’t end too well…”

Mercer just shakes his head.  “I’m not talking about bringing the actual animals back to life – because, yes, you’re right – they would be uncontrollable.”  An eagerness lights his eyes.  “But consider:  combine dino DNA with technology.  Just think, Oliver – fusion-powered replicants using actual dinosaur DNA for their neural functions.”

“Robotic dinosaurs?”

“ _Living_ robotic dinosaurs.  Cyborgs.  Programmable.  Controllable.”

“Umm, what for?”

“For a living laboratory.  Program them in a certain direction, then see how the organic parts respond.  Better than computer simulations.  Just think – it would blow apart the present world of paleontology.”

Tommy looks at Mercer askance.  “And you, uh,  haven’t mentioned this… project of yours… to anyone else?”

Mercer smiles.  “You think I sound like a crackpot.”

“Uh, yeah, just a little,” Tommy has to admit.

Mercer’s expression turns serious, and from his pocket he withdraws a flash-drive.  “I’ve written up an overview of my research so far.  I’d like you to take this and look it over.  If you still think I’m crazy, that’ll be the end of it.  I won’t bring it up again.  But if this interests you at all, then contact me, and we can work together.  It’ll be ground-breaking.”

“Why me?”

“Because you and I have both been working on Mesozoic genetics separately – we’ve probably each had to go over the same ground individually.  We could both save time and effort by sharing our research.”  Another little smile.  “And because I remember a brilliant student in my class who enjoyed a challenging assignment.  In addition, you have a far greater grounding in robotics than I have.  I need your expertise.  In return, I’ve got nearly unlimited funding for both of us, through my corporation, Mercer Industries.”

“Then I assume any results we create will be the intellectual property of Mercer Industries?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal your work, Dr. Oliver.  You’ll be a full partner, of course.”

Tommy hesitates.  “I don’t know…”

Mercer pushes the flash-drive across the table.  “I’m not asking for an answer right now.  Look this over, compare it to your own research, then we can talk.”

Tommy takes the drive.  “All right.  I can’t promise anything, but I’ll look at it.”

“Good.”  Mercer refreshes their drinks.  “And now… I told you I had a proposition for you.  Actually I have two.”

… _here it comes_ , Tommy thinks.

Mercer smiles.  “This friend from your past whom I remind you of – If perhaps you’re interested in discovering just how much of a likeness we share, I would not be averse to… helping satisfy your curiosity…”

Tommy grins.  “Neither would I.”  
* * * * *

“Tell me about this demon lover of yours.  Where did he come from, and what happened to him?”

“He came from the Demon Wood, but he was no demon.  However, he was a sorcerer.”

“A sorcerer?  Indeed.”

“A white sorcerer.  He was also a ranger, as well as a warrior who fought with a technique I had never seen before.  He said he came from a different world, and in the end, he had to return.  He said he didn’t belong in this world, and couldn’t stay.  Besides, as a ranger, he said it was his duty to protect his world.”

“Perhaps you only dreamed him.”

“Ah, then I would gladly, willingly spend the rest of my life in that dream.”

“And I bear a resemblance to this sorcerer of yours?”

“Down to the very flesh on your bones.  You could have been whelped together.  Your face, your body, even your scent is his… And I will chance to say, even your taste… which I hope to find out very soon…”

“Well, I’m not a sorcerer, but I am a soldier.  And a ranger.  My father insisted that his sons learn to take responsibility to care for and protect the land we rule.  So I don’t know if I measure up to your ‘Tommi’, but if you care to seal a warrior’s bond between us…”

“I would care to,” Anton agrees.  “I would care to very much.”

* * * * *

“So, tell me about this old friend of yours.  How did you know him?”

“He was – is – a prince.” Tommy glances over at the other man lying next to him.  “And his name is Anton, too.”

“Indeed.  Although, I was unaware of any royalty who look like me, or share my name – and besides there aren’t too many left in this day and age.”

“He’s not from this day and age – well, at least, he’s not from this world.  He’s from a different dimension – a parallel dimension to ours, but one where civilization looks similar to ours from a thousand years ago.”

“Mm.  Sounds like someone was studying a little too late into the night.  Are you sure you didn’t dream him up?”

“I didn’t dream this up.”  And Tommy turns on the bedside lamp and rolls over to expose the traces of whip scars on his back.  “His father, the king, gave those to me, thinking I might be possessed by a demon, or a sorcerer about to conjure up black magic and bring the kingdom to ruins.”

Mercer’s fingertips trace over the marks. “I saw them.  I thought perhaps you had enjoyed the … over-enthusiastic… attentions of an ex-lover.”  Propping his head up on one hand, he queried, “So, how did you end up there?”

“You’ve probably heard of the possibilities of multi-dimensional universes and the worm-holes or tunnels that connect them.”

“I’ve heard of them, of course, although theoretical physics is not my field of expertise.”

“Well, they’re real.  And some time ago, I accidentally walked through a rift and found myself in his world.”

“And just how did you return?”

“A colleague of mine _is_ a theoretical physicist and was able to phase-synchronize to get me back – don’t ask me how – it’s not my field either.”

“A traveller to another dimension.  Well, I must say, Dr. Oliver, you are even more interesting than I first ascertained.”

“You’re pretty interesting yourself.”

“So tell me.  Am I as like your prince as you expected… hoped?”

Tommy grins.  “I wouldn’t have been able to tell you apart.  Well actually, there are a couple of differences – he tried to screw me the first day we met, and he liked to leave marks.”

A playful glint in pale eye.  “Then we’re not different at all.  I wanted to screw you the first day _we_ met.”

“You mean this past Monday?”

“I mean fifteen years ago, the first day of class when you first walked in the room.”

Tommy shoots him a look.  “It took you fifteen years to get around to it?”

A slight shrug.  “All you ever had to do was ask.”

Tommy rolls over and climbs on top, a challenge twinkling.  “All _you_ ever had to do was ask.”

Mercer’s hands rest on the cool skin of Tommy’s buttocks.  “Well, I certainly hope you’ll consider my proposition.”

Tommy just grins suggestively.  “Which one?”

Mercer urges him close again for another kiss, while the fingers of one hand slip into cleavage to find an intimate entrance.  “… mm… both of them… Definitely…”

Straddling his knees across Mercer’s hips, Tommy rests his forearms on either side of Mercer’s head.  “You know, when I said there were two differences between you and him, you only answered one.”

A little pull of lips.  “That’s right, I did.”  Abruptly he squeezes Tommy’s buttocks, fingernails digging sharply into flesh.  “I also said there was no difference between us.”

Tommy’s eyes flash brightly, lips tugged back over teeth in a grin that is half wince of pain.  Fingers clutch blond hair.

Forcing Tommy open, Mercer pushes in, and Tommy retaliates by forcing himself down and taking it all at once.  Mercer slams into him over and over.

Then taking Tommy by the chin, Mercer kisses him roughly, biting his lip and drawing blood.  Tommy doesn’t draw back, but thrusts his tongue into Mercer’s mouth, as they work in a hard rhythm.

Until Anton breaks the kiss, then nips an earlobe.  “I’m going to make you scream,” he promises.

“Funny, he said the same thing.”

“And you screamed, didn’t you?”

Tommy smiles slyly.  “So did he.  So tell me the truth – you’re the prince, aren’t you?  You’ve found a way to slip over into my world, haven’t you?”

An enigmatic smile.  “I just hope that your prince has found the Tommy Oliver of his world – and if so, I hope he’s screwing his brains out right now.”

“I’m sure he is.”

. . . . .

 _to be continued someday_ …

 


End file.
